• De3thwish

    Fields of wheat weave silent
    Sitting rooted something thin

    Wind threading in and out
    Nothing stirs above but when

    The war ends

    Sits a lone gunslinger
    Shell shocked pain reaver

    Jacket yellow as the crops
    Copper soil but the plots

    Where bodies bled out
    And brown uniforms turned

    To mulch

    Overworked by the ruin
    Wrought by the struggle

    Wheat whips in wind
    Around the gun wielder

    Had a deathwish that
    Ended when he didn’t

    Knew nothing but shooting
    Now staring at irony

    This was the last fight
    He needed to fight

    Watching the sun set
    Over the meadows
    Staring at cliché

    Alone with the moment that
    Came after guns stopped


    After all
    The guns
    Stopped clapping

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